


because im 18

by snappysnails (sleepystreets)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gay Keith, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Keith and Pidge friendship, M/M, croptop keith, have fun, lance is closeted bi, lance is lowkey rich, lance wears yeezy im sorry, not really enemies more like, playful rivals, shiro is in college
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-06 02:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15184469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepystreets/pseuds/snappysnails
Summary: "Keith, honey, no," Pidge heeded him sympathetically. "He's waaay out of your league.""Wow, thanks," Keith said. "Maybe he's a little too ambitious for me.""A little?" Pidge cried incredulously, throwing her hands up. "Keith he wears Yeezy. He listens to Drake. He's STRAIGHT.""Is that a bad thing?" Keith questioned."In your situation? YES." Pidge yelled to be heard over the deafening music. "Because I'm pretty sure he has a girlfriend."_____________________________Or: Keith falls for a cute popular guy that's everything he can't have





	1. cherry cola

**Author's Note:**

> IVE NEVER FELL IN LOVE I SAVE THOSE FEELINGS FOR U
> 
> I deadass wrote a whole fic bcs i listened to a good song,,,, hm,,,, wack
> 
>  
> 
> Welcome fuckers

He poured vodka and cherry coke into a bright red solo cup, the kind you see in movies and watched the fizz climb up rapidly and settle down.

Loud voices clamored around him annoyingly and at his station next to the fridge he could see the giant living room, where music blasted the loudest, where the colored lights shone the brightest, and where the drunkest of people went to embarrass themselves by grinding and feeling each other up on the dance floor.

"Pidge, why are we heere," he threw his head back, feeling the ground tremble under his feet. The stench of booze and teenage sweat was heavy in the air and the moving mass of bodies squirming on the dance floor was almost sickening to look at. Through the earsplitting music and the drunken clamor of voices, Pidge sat on the kitchen counter and he stood across from her, both of them glaring disdainfully at the happy party people.

"Well, it's Rolo's birthday," she answered, focused on whatever science experiment she's conducting now, something to do with whiskey and water.

"I don't even know Rolo!" he groaned. "Can we leave? Please?" he sipped his Coke dismally, a fuzzy burn in his throat.

"No! I have to show Rolo my appreciation for getting me those computer parts!" She kicked at him. "And you have to keep me company."

"Fuck you," he rolled his eyes and peeked at the dance floor again, watching one individual though, watching sun-kissed skin writhe their way around to loud music, carefree and easygoing. The crowd moves jerkily with the beat, which is bouncy and hard-hitting. He downs his drink with a grimace.

"Get me more coke," he waved his now empty cup at her, watching her carefully place her credit card over a glass of water and flip it over quickly and balance it on a glass of whiskey.

_"Listen. If I do this, the whiskey will move its way to the top and the water will go to the bottom, because of density and shit."_

_"You're really gonna waste a good glass of whiskey for a science experiment?"_

_"Shut up, whiskey is gross anyway," Pidge had said before pouring a glass. "Now, we wait."_

"Sure Keith, I'll get you some coke," Pidge said, her voice derisive, pretending to snort lines off of her hand. She shot her head up and grinned, floppy brown hair sticking up, her glasses just a little bit wonky.

"NOT COCAINE." Keith smacked her arm playfully and then moved his gaze to the dance floor again.

Pidge fixed her glasses. "Who're you looking at?" Pidge teased him, following his gaze to the dance floor earnestly. A new song starts, and the crowd screams in excitement. "Another football beefcake?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "The ones with rippling abs?"

"Ew no, Pidge please, you know that's not my type," Keith shook his head, throwing his empty red cup weakly at Pidge, the cup bouncing off her arm and clattering on the kitchen tile. "Why am I even here," Keith pouted.

"To look at boys apparently," she said, ignoring the fallen cup, and watching the whiskey and water mix together.

"No," Keith huffed, crossing his arms. "I don't look at boys. I've never seen a boy in my life."

Pidge rolled her eyes. "So you've never looked in the mirror? Hm. Explains why you look like a mole rat."

"You're so mean to me!"

"No I'm not," Pidge strained her neck and viewed the plethora of people in the living room again. "Now back to mystery boy. Is it that curly haired hottie? Orange shirt?"

Keith glanced over and shook his head. "No, he's cute though. Do you really want to know who?"

"Yes, obviously!"

"Why?" Keith fidgeted with his gloves. He knew Pidge wouldn't tell anybody, but he would definitely be bullied mercilessly in the foreseeable future.

"I'm curious Keith! I have to see the face of who is distracting Keith from my important whiskey and water experiment."

Keith was silent. He tugged at the bottom of his crop top, feeling a little bit naked under all the interrogation.

"Keeeeeiiiiiittthhhhhhh," she drawled loudly. "Pleeeassseee. I won't laugh."

"No," he replies bluntly.

"At least tell me what color he's wearing." Pidge needled, kicking at him again. "I'm curious!"

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"I'll tell Shiro about your belly button piercing."

"You wouldn't!" Keith cried incredulously.

"He would go ballistic," Pidge grinned, a tad creepily.

Keith sighed, a little defeated. "Fine. Well," Keith hesitated, eyeing a full bottle of vodka. "It might be, perhaps, the guy in the wh-"

"THEY GOTTA RUN ME THE MAX! AYYYY!" The mob on the dance floor collectively screamed before cheering noisily, their hands reaching for the low ceiling.

"Jesus Christ. Could they be any louder?" Pidge rolled her eyes, her glasses glinting under the dim kitchen lights. "Anyways the guy in what?"

"Nevermind," Keith pouted, blowing bits of hair out of his eyes. "I'm not saying it again," he crossed his arms. "You had one chance."

"The guy in the white? Gotcha." Pidge scoured the crowd.

"I hate you so much," Keith recoiled, waiting for Pidge to realize who it was.

She spent a minute scrutinizing the crowd before she realized. Pidge's eyes widened. "Oh my god. No. Keith no. Not him." She raised her eyebrows. "You cannot be serious. No."

"I'm not ser-"

"Shush..."She takes Keith in, looking him up and down. "...you're too grungy for him anyways. You look like you came straight out of a storm drain," she paused for a second. "You're not in the same social groups either... this is some Romeo and Juliet shit except you guys will never fuck."

"Shut up!" Keith exclaimed, burying his face in his hands, feeling the nervous heat of his now burning red face on his fingers. He knew it. Pidge cannot refrain herself from straight up bullying.

"Tragical, I know," Pidge pushed her glasses up.

"Well, I can still admire him from afar, he's still cute," Keith added after a moment.

"Keith, honey, no," Pidge heeded him sympathetically. "He's waaay out of your league." She dragged out the 'way', which just made Keith feel even worse than before.

"Wow, thanks," Keith said, peeking through his fingertips. "Maybe he's a little too ambitious for me."

"A little?" Pidge cried incredulously, throwing her hands up. "Keith he wears _Yeezy_. He listens to Drake. He's STRAIGHT."

"Is that a bad thing?" Keith questioned then shrugged, eyes trained on flushed tan skin and freckles. He let his hands fall back down to his sides and he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"In your situation? YES." Pidge yelled to be heard over the deafening music. "Because I'm pretty sure he has a girlfriend."

"I know he does," Keith responds bluntly, eyes shifting to look at the girl dancing messily beside him, a blue crop top hugging her curves, blonde hair tied in two bouncy pigtails. Popular, friendly, beautiful. Probably smells like strawberries and rockstar soap. Of course, she's his girlfriend.

"What's her name again?" Pidge wondered. "Narti?"

"No. That's Lotor's friend," Keith leaned over. "It's like, N-, um, Nina?"

"NYMA!" Pidge exclaimed. "That's it, it's Nyma." She hesitated for a second. "Oh shit."

"What?"

"Is this the same Nyma that was thinging with Lotor?" Pidge glanced up at Keith, her voice dropping. "Shit, he's fucking dead."

It was common knowledge in their school that Lotor would go to extreme lengths to get what he wanted. As in, get his four "friends" to beat you to a pulp as he remained coolly on the side, watching as you get punched and kicked. Fun, right?

"Oh shit." Keith kept his eyes on the figure on the dance floor. He was now holding both hands with Nyma, doing ridiculous turns and moves, his hair flopping around his face, his cheeks rosy as he bounced about, full of pep.

"Guess your crush has it coming for him," Pidge's voice was quiet. "He's fucking toast. Lotor's gonna do it to him." Her face lit up. "Oh my god. You know I had to do it to 'em."

"Shut up. And he's not my cr-" Keith began before he felt a tap on his shoulder. He twisted around to recognize black and white hair, friendly eyes, and a bright red football jersey. Shiro.

"Wh-Oh my god! Why are you even hereeeee? Leave! Please!" Keith groaned. "This is uncalled for."

"You're uncalled for. And I can be wherever I want." Shiro said before he glanced at Pidge. "Hi Pidge, you are not of age for this."

"Oh shut up. You're not my dad. Fifteen is old enough," she said with an air of annoyance.

"I'm your dad now, bitch."

"Anyway, Mom told me to look after you!" Shiro grinned. "Dear old mom was worried."

Pidge laughed. "Oh Keith, always mama's little boy." Shiro nods in agreement, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"Oh haha." Keith sarcastically said, shifting slightly. The kitchen proved a bit small to fit the three of them all in this small corner.

Shiro was a football player in their local college, not the quarterback, but one of their best players. They win almost every game, and their team is the pride and joy of the Garrison.

Keith had always wanted to play football, to follow in his older brother's footsteps. He had been playing football with Shiro since before he can remember, but when he went for tryouts in freshman year, he was sent back sympathetically.

_"Sorry kid, maybe try the volleyball team."_

"So, who's your crush?" Shiro teased, ruffling Keith's hair.

"Leave me ALONE!" Keith smacked Shiro's hand away frustratedly.

"It's that kid, in the white," Pidge pointed to the dance floor. Shiro looked over Keith's head. "No, not that one, the one closer to the middle."

Shiro scanned the dance floor coolly. "Wait a second. Him?"

"I don't even know him!" Keith scowled. "He's just cute."

Majorly cute. As in, Keith has seen him in the hallways, leaned against lockers cute, typing away on his phone cute. Wavy brown hair, blue eyes that could rival the ocean, long slender legs, always enveloped in a giant hoodie, usually designer. Always surrounded by laughing girls, he was a magnet to those gullible high school girls who crowded around him and touched his arm, ran their fingers through his hair, or fluffed their own and giggled, flirtatious tones flitting under their tougues.

"How cute exactly Keith? Tell us!" Pidge taunted, teaming up with Shiro, to Keith’s dismay.

"Wait. That kid? Lance right?" Shiro exclaimed, a grin crawling across his face.

Keith faltered. _Lance?_

 Shiro continued, "I helped him with his application for the Garrison! You like him?"

Is that his name? Lance? He stared at the dance floor trying to catch that white sweater, trying to put a name to the face. He was nowhere to be found, the dance floor almost cleared out as people were getting more tired. Keith felt almost disappointed before he realized that he was just being stupid. He just learned this guys name and he was already missing his happy expression as he got shoved around to loud music.

"Lance is his name?" Keith felt stunned, those words tumbling out of his mouth.

"Where is he?" Pidge remarked, looking at the almost empty living room. "Keith wanna go find him?" She slides off the counter and bounces to her feet.

Keith gave Pidge a dirty look.

The music dips to something more mild, deep notes reverberating across the floor, dampening and subduing the loud chatter and laughter.

"It's fine! Go find your prince charming Keithie!" Shiro said with an enthusiastic beam. "I have this bottle of vodka to keep me company," he held up a bottle of Absolut and petted it endearingly.

"Oh god," Pidge muttered and grabbed Keith's hand. "Come on Krink Cocaine, lets find him."

He and Pidge shoved their way through the crowded hallway, to the dismay of many horny teens who were pushed up against walls. Thanking God that he wasn't drunk, except for the minor buzz tingling in his fingertips, he finally made his way to the door. It was closed, so he jiggled the knob but it wasn't locked. Thinking, whatever, someone might've just closed it by accident.

"Wonder what this room is!" Pidge threw the door open.

With horror, Keith found himself face to face with blue eyes and blonde hair.

 


	2. corona extra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaning towards him, she smacked her lips obscenely, a loud noise reverberating around the room. "Enjoy the show?" she crooned and rolled her eyes as she wrapped her arms around Lance again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!
> 
> homophobic language (only said 2 times) but it a rlly mean way sorry guys :(((
> 
> also i really dont know why it took so long to write this,,, it be ur own procrastination

The room was dim, only lit by one weak yellow lamp in the corner. Lance's arms were snaked around Nyma's thin waist, his chin resting on her shoulder and his fingertips edging her delicate spine under her blue shirt. Her face was buried in his neck and her arms slung around Lance's shoulders. Long dark shadows stretched and raced across the hardwood floor, the edges of the darkness grazing the tips of Keith's sneakers.

Keith took in the sight, a little part of him breaking when he saw Lance only feet away, yet inches away from someone else.

Pidge coughed suddenly, the sound unexpected and loud. Keith panicked.

"Shut up!" he whispered hurriedly. If Lance saw him creeping on his makeup session, he would never look at him normally again.

Lance looked up.

Lance's eyes widened when he caught sight of the two intruders, and he started to push Nyma away from him. Keith and Pidge looked at each other hesitantly, and Keith tugged at the bottom on his crop top again, feeling scrutinized under Lance's alarmed eyes.

Nyma's lips detached from Lance's neck with an audible pop. "Babe? Wh-" She turned towards the door and her eyes met Keith's. She blinked confused, before huffing and fixing a long pigtail. Leaning towards him, she smacked her lips obscenely, a loud noise reverberating around the room. "Enjoy the show?" she crooned and rolled her eyes as she wrapped her arms around Lance again. Her lipgloss was streaked across her face, sparkling, glittering goo glinting in the yellow light.

"Don't you know anything? Get out!" Lance suddenly yelled, pushing Nyma away again. Nyma merely pouted and crossed her arms, almost looking like a moody toddler. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Lance continued shouting.

"The door wasn't locked asshole!" Pidge yelled back, her face twisting into one of anger. Keith saw her hands clench into fists. Oh geez. He started to leave the room before Pidge grabbed his sleeve. "Back me up."

"So what!" Lance raised an eyebrow.

Pidge definitely worked well under pressure, but when blinded by anger, she was almost as impulsive as him.

"So we walked in! Isn't our fault!" Her was voice laced with flames.

"Doesn't mean you go barging in wherever you want!" Lance responded, throwing his hands up, obviously pissed off his makeout session was interrupted.

"The door wasn't locked!"

"The door was closed!" Lance retorted.

Pidge laughed, obviously fake. "So if you see good ol' Target and the doors are motherfucking closed so you can't enter? No?"

"Don't disrespect Target like that!" Lance scoffed.

"W-"

"Well, what about you," Lance interrupted Pidge, and his scornful gaze shifted to Keith. "Why are you barging in then?"

"B-because I am?" Keith felt his throat tremble, not even believing that Lance was talking to him.

"Why are you acting so shy?" Lance taunted. "Scared or something?"

"OMG, Lance, he's blushing!" Nyma mocked him, her voice sing-song, her hands on her hips.

"Gross, what are you, gay?" Lance's nose wrinkled.

Keith's insides stung. He stepped back, his conscious burning.

"Oh my god, he really is," Nyma nudged Lance, a grin growing on her face.

Pidge growled at his side.

"WELL, SO WHAT IF HE IS? DOES THAT MATTER OR ARE YOU TOO SIMPLE-MINDED TO DEAL WITH THAT!" Pidge practically screamed, stepping in front of Keith instinctively. People in the hallway looked over, curiosity emanating from their peering eyes.

"Don't talk to my boyfriend like that!" Nyma stepped forwards, only inches between them, looking down at Pidge with a haughty expression, her lipgloss still smudged all over her face, and her previously bouncy pigtails now frizzy and mussed.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Pidge looked up at her defiantly, almost a foot of height difference between them.

"Get. Out."

"Your fake eyelashes are falling off bitch!" Pidge spat. Keith could've sworn that Lance stifled a laugh, a big white sleeve covering his mouth as his blue-almost-green-in-the-light eyes crinkled and shone. Keith stared, his hands hanging by his side like an idiot. Background sounds muffled in nonexistence, he can barely hear the hard voices and heavy beat from far, far away. He doesn't know how long he watched and gaped until Pidge smacked his arm.

"Keith! Back me up! Tell this bitch who doesn't know how to lock a door that she can't comment on my tooth gap."

"Oh fuck you," Nyma stepped even closer.

"Baby, wait. Are you really gonna throw hands with a thirteen-year-old? Lance gently pulled Nyma back. She complied, a grumbled expression on her face.

"I'M FIFTEEN."

"Whatever! Just fucking leave already. Take your faggot boyfriend too," Lance spat out, before turning away.

Keith felt his insides go numb again, instinctively feeling his hands form into fists at his sides. That word slipped out of Lance's mouth like acid, dripping down his face like something dirty and broken.

Pidge was practically shaking at his side. She needed to calm down. He needed a drink.

"...what did you just fucking say," Pidge said slowly, the tension in the air heavy, falling around their feet like pouring rain. Lance's back is still facing them, his head turned toward the floor.

"You heard him," Nyma snapped. Keith pulled Pidge back, out of the room, past the doorframe.

"Wish I didn't," Pidge snarled, fighting against Keith, her shoes scuffling on the hardwood floor.

Nyma snickered. "What's the big deal? Faggot."

"SAY THAT AGAIN I FUCKING DARE-"

Nyma slammed the door in her face in response.

"BITCH-" Pidge almost threw herself at the closed door before Keith grabbed her.

"It's not worth it," he held her arms against her sides, which was no use as she started kicking at his shins.

"It'll be worth it if you let me in that door!" She continued wrestling against Keith, who she was no match for. "Fucking bitch! Thinks she's so entitled just bec-"

"It doesn't matter anymore!" Keith interrupted, cursing at himself in his brain, hating himself, hating himself for falling for Lance.

"Whatever," Keith pulled her away, ignoring the loud, obscene moans coming from inside that room. "It doesn't matter."

Maybe if he said it enough, he could convince himself.

The party was dying down, the last stragglers of people meandering outside on the front lawn or rounding up their friends.

"Let's leave Pidge," Keith nudged his friend, who sulked beside him as they made their way back to the kitchen.

"I can't believe you wouldn't let me avenge you! That's what friends are for!"

"It's fine, people say it all the time," Keith stepped over an unconscious girl with long white hair. "It doesn't mean anything." They returned to their original spot at the kitchen counter, both of them standing on opposite sides of the counter. A sea of empty bottles and scattered cups covered the counter, a bottle of Corona Extra spilled onto the floor.

A beat of silence passed.

"What time is it?" Pidge muttered.

Keith checked his phone. "2:27"

"I'm going home," Pidge said, straightening her back and stretching. "You wanna crash at mine or can you ride home?"

Keith smiled. "Nah, it's okay. I'm definitely sober now."

Pidge let out a weak laugh. "Well, I'll see you on Monday Kogane." She hugged him and left, running to the front door before her mom caught her out this late.

Keith needed fresh air. Getting over Lance would take some time.

He walked out the back door and sat down on the rickety wooden porch, ignoring the creaking and getting lost in his thoughts about oversized hoodies and bright eyes.

Soon after, he felt a presence beside him. He ignored it.

"Hey man," Lance plopped down beside him on the porch. He tugged on the bottom of his hoodie, obviously uncomfortable.

"What," Keith bit back, his voice full of acid. A small, tiny, minuscule part of him screaming at the fact that Lance is talking to him, sitting mere inches away from him. He stared down a tuft of grass to avoid Lance's heavy gaze. As much fury as he felt toward Lance, he still felt the familiar heat of a blush creep along his neck. For the first time in a long time, he was glad that his hair was long enough to cover it.

"Sorry about what I said earlier, I didn't mean it," Lance muttered awkwardly. "I don't know what came over me."

Keith finally ripped his eyes off the grass and looked at Lance. His hair was mussed, straight out of bed, and his lips were bitten, red, and raw. Lance looked down sheepishly before scuffing at the grass with his shoe. "Yeah, you did," Keith muttered.

"I'm really sorry man."

The wind rustled through the air, a cold understanding passing between them.

"I don't care," Keith finally whispered. And as much as Lance's eyes twinkled in the moonlight, and as much as the freckles on his face stood out in contrast to the harsh white of his hoodie, he wasn't going to fall for it. He stood up and started to walk back inside.

"Hey man," Lance said quietly from behind him. Keith looked over his shoulder.

"What."

"Don't tell anyone," Lance pulled his hood up, hiding his face.

Leaving the door open, Keith went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback appreciated!!!!  
> Thanks for reading guys!! ily

**Author's Note:**

> hmmmmmmmmmmmm
> 
> leave feedback below ! thanks for reading guys i love all yall


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